


Ghosts

by dragonshost



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/M, It's really more like, Major Character Undeath, Modern AU, also despite what it looks like in chapter one, ghost au, i swear it's not an Oedipus Complex, location never specified, so although it's technically Major Character Death, that is not what is happening here I SWEAR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 23:49:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17032269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonshost/pseuds/dragonshost
Summary: Ghosts aren't supposed to be like Lucy.





	1. Chapter 1

Erik had a ghost.

She was blonde, much older than him, pretty enough (he guessed), and annoying as  _fuck_  (which he realized was a word he shouldn't know at seven – and to be honest he wasn't entirely certain what it meant. He just knew it was bad, which was enough for him).

Her name was Lucy, and Erik wasn't entirely positive about when it was she had begun to haunt him. It felt like she'd always been there, to be honest.

Once upon a time, before Lucy had entered his life (he could still vaguely recall that there had been that time – though pinpointing it was a challenge), Erik had thought that ghosts were terrifying beings. Transparent, floating monsters that despised the living (according to late night shows he wasn't supposed to be watching). Desiring nothing more than to drag those still alive into the netherworld with them.

Lucy, on the other hand, was everything Erik had been told ghosts were not. For one, she was completely solid. Not just in appearance, either. The older woman could affect and manipulate the things around her, and when she held his hand she was warm to the touch. Also, no ghost had ever been shown to be quite as bubbly and energetic as Lucy was. Rather than forcing him to join her in the realm of the dead, Lucy seemed far more interested in making sure Erik ate his vegetables and went to bed at a decent hour.

Right now she was bothering him while he tried to watch the television with the other children in the foster home in which he lived.

"Erik, did you do your homework for school? I know you hate math, but this is important," she scolded, standing in front of the screen.

The boy resisted groaning out loud. He couldn't watch the show with her there, blocking his view. Sadly, the only thing about specters that held true in regards to Lucy was the fact that no one but Erik could see or hear her. If he started talking back to her, he'd look crazy. The therapist the social worker had taken him to see once certainly had when he'd brought Lucy up. Erik was beginning to think it was true, himself, to be honest. Though he wasn't entirely certain he was  _capable_  of imagining someone like Lucy. If he was going to invent an imaginary friend, he would have gone for something much cooler than a nagging blonde. A flying purple snake sounded much more awesome.

Lucy tapped her foot impatiently. "Young man, I know you haven't done it. Go up to your room and finish it."

Knowing from past experience that she wouldn't give him any peace until he did so, Erik gave up. With a barely restrained snarl, he stomped to the room he shared with two other children. Both of them were firmly situated in front of the television, though, so at least he would be free to argue with Lucy to his heart's content.

As he shut the door behind him, he turned to face the blonde ghost. "What was that for, Lucy?!" he demanded. "Homework could have waited until the show was over!"

She shook her head. "If I had, then you would be say, 'Just one more show,' until it was suppertime. And then it would be bathtime, and then bedtime. At which point, you'd be stuck doing your homework way too late at night, not getting any sleep, and you'd be super grumpy tomorrow morning! The sooner you get your homework done, the sooner you can go back to playing."

Erik threw his hands in the air. "What is so important about doing my homework anyway?! It's not as if math is important!"

To his great surprise, Lucy laughed at that. "Actually, people use math a lot in their everyday lives. But it's fine if it's not your cup of tea."

"I hate tea," he muttered.

"Fine then, it's not your favorite subject. You still need to know it."

"It's not just math!" he complained, sitting down at the small desk crammed between two bunk beds. His backpack he extracted from beneath his bunk. "I just don't see the point of school at all!"

Lucy frowned, sitting on the edge of Erik's bed. She propped her elbows on her knees and rested her chin in her palms. Watching him pull out his assigned work, she contemplated his statement. "You know," Lucy suddenly spoke up, startling the boy just a smidge, "school is much like hunting for buried treasure."

Turning in his seat, Erik stared at the obviously insane ghost. "What are you talking about?"

"Well… think of it like this," she explained. "Somewhere in your schoolwork, you're going to someday find what makes you happiest doing. Or at least, that's the goal. You just have to keep working through all the subjects until you find it. Just like when you're looking for buried treasure, you have to dig a lot of holes."

Erik snorted. "Except this 'treasure,' has no map and I have no idea what the hell it even looks like."

"Language," she reminded him softly. "You're right – but…" Her gaze turned wistful. "When you find it? And suddenly everything makes sense to you?" A small smile touched her lips. "There's nothing like that feeling in all the world. Trust me."

Watching Lucy's expression, Erik began to wonder for the first time just what it was that had meant that much to Lucy. Was that why she pushed him to find it? Because she could no longer reach her own buried treasure?

He wasn't sure he liked thinking about that.

"Fine," Erik grumbled, deciding to leave it be for now. "I'll do the stupid math. But you had better help!"

Lucy smiled at him. "Sure."

* * *

"So, Erik," Lucy said some weeks later, sitting beside the boy on the bunk bed. "I hear that bunk over there is finally getting a new occupant."

He raised an eyebrow at her, a tic he'd actually picked up from the ghost herself. "Yeah, a new kid is coming. Supposed to be a girl."

The ghost nodded sagely. "I heard your foster parents discussing it last night. I think her name is Kinana."

"Why are  _you_  so interested?" Erik wanted to know.

She raised an eyebrow right back at him. "Why don't  _you_  sound enthused?"

"Because it's a girl."

"I'm a girl," Lucy pointed out.

"Yeah. I know. That's what I'm basing this on."

Rolling her eyes at him, she gave his shoulder a shove and he fell, laughing, face first into his pillow. "Goofball," she said fondly, reaching down and tickling him without mercy.

"Aaaah!" he shrieked. "Stop it!"

"Treat her nicely, Erik. I mean it."

Erik convulsed with laughter, tears streaking from his eyes. "I will!"

Lucy released him, and giggled as he gasped for air. "Now promise me. Pinky-promise!" Lucy held out the digit to him.

"I'm almost eight!" the maroon-haired boy protested. "I'm too old for pinky-promises!"

"You're never too old for pinky-promises," Lucy replied with grave seriousness. She held up her other hand, wiggling her fingers threateningly. "Now pinky-swear. Or else!"

Squawking in protest, he hurriedly hooked the smallest finger on his hand with hers. "There! I pinky-swear!"

"Good job, squirt."

* * *

Kinana turned out to be more than just merely tolerable for Erik. Her timidity was a far cry from Lucy's outright bossiness, yet she held within her the same kindness. Erik found himself playing with her quite a lot. She was easy to be around.

All of which Lucy noticed, of course.

"So, Kinana's been here a few months now," she whispered to him one night, after everyone else was asleep. "What do you think of her?"

"Why are you whispering?" he asked. "No one else can hear you."

"Answer my question, brat."

He blinked in the dark, flipping over to see her outlined in the dim room. Lucy glowed a little to his sight. "You've been calling me names a lot more lately."

She seemed amused by his observation. "Still avoiding my question."

Shrugging, Erik confessed, "I like her. She's… pretty cool. There, you happy, now?"

Lucy nodded, a grin full of pearly-whites lighting up her visage further. "I'm very happy you've made a good friend, Erik. Now go to sleep."

"That's what you were keeping me up for?" he grumbled, but obediently turned again on his side.

A few moments of silence passed, then Lucy spoke up again. "I overheard your foster parents discussing your grades."

Erik stiffened. "Yeah? What about them?"

"You're doing great," she stated, her voice low and full of warmth. "I'm proud of you, kiddo. Best in your class, apparently."

Relaxing, Erik smiled into the darkness. "Cool." Some moments later, he asked, "Lucy?"

"Yeah?"

"Could… could you…?"

"…Sure thing." He felt the bed depress behind him, and the weight of an arm drape itself over his midsection. "That better?"

With a twist, Erik faced Lucy and buried his face into her chest.

"Watch it, kid," Lucy chuckled.

"…Thanks, Lucy," he mumbled.

She placed a gentle kiss on his head, and stroked his hair. "You're welcome."

Erik felt sleep pulling at his senses, dragging him down into dreams that he knew would be pleasant for once. "Lucy?"

"Yeah?"

"…I wish you were my mom, sometimes," he said.

Lucy sharply inhaled. When she could speak again, it sounded as if there was something lodged in her throat. Like there were so many things that she wanted to say, that they'd gotten stuck trying to escape. "…I would've liked that," she told him. "Being your mother. I would've been a horrible one, though. I wasn't such a great person when I was… alive."

Sleepily, Erik shook his head. "You would've done fine. You kind of… already are my mother, though."

Dampness settled into his hair, and as he drifted off to the land of dreams at last, Erik thought how cruelly unfair it was that ghosts could cry.

* * *

Erik sighed heavily as Lucy rearranged the books in his bag. A curious Kinana looked on, having been entrusted with the great secret of her best friend's ghost some time before. The shy girl had taken an immediate liking to Lucy, and vice versa. They could only communicate when Erik translated Lucy's words for her, but that didn't seem to undermine their budding affection for each other.

"There," Lucy said, once the contents were to her liking. "That should be easier to carry. Now hand me Kinana's."

With a groan, Erik gestured to his purple-haired friend to fork over the bag. "She wants to fix yours, too." He turned to Lucy, exasperated. "Come on, Lucy! It's not as if we haven't been to school before!"

Lucy shook her head. "But this will be the first time you'll be going without me!" she said. "I just worry, okay?!"

"I'm eight! And Kinana's nine! We should've been going on our own long before now!"

The ghost hung her head, blonde strands falling into her face. "I know, I know," she told him. "Soon you won't be needing me anymore."

Erik did not like the finality in that statement, nor the defeat in her tone.

* * *

Lucy hugged Erik as tightly as she could. "I'm so happy that you made so many new friends!"

The boy tried to shove the affectionate ghost off of him. "Let go, would you?! And I'm not sure they count when they're your foster siblings."

Shaking her head, Lucy held Erik at arm's length, but did not completely release him. "What about Kinana, then?"

"She's different."

A laugh escaped Lucy's mouth, her brown eyes sparkling. "How exactly is she different?"

Erik didn't actually have an answer. "She just is!" He protested when Lucy began to laugh at him in earnest, "Hey!"

Lucy pulled him in for a much gentler hug than before. "Sometimes, the family you choose can become more important than the one you're born into. Wouldn't you say?"

Clutching her in return, Erik couldn't help but agree.

* * *

When the day finally came, he wasn't ready for it.

How could he be?

"You're… you're…" Erik gulped, his mouth full of cotton and his eyes burning. "You're  _leaving_  me?"

Lucy swallowed thickly as well. Her eyes brimmed over with tears of her own she was fighting desperately to keep at bay. "I don't want to," she confessed in a choked whisper.

"But you're still going to."

"Yes."

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. No matter how hard he tried to say something, he couldn't. The words were trapped inside of him. So many things he wanted to say.

"I have to," Lucy continued, as if able to read his mind. "I… I stayed as long as I could. But I have to go now. If I don't…" she choked, the warm, salty tears flowing down her face uninhibited now. "If I don't rejoin the cycle now… I won't ever be able to."

She reached out her hand, but Erik flinched away. Lucy's arm fell, dropping to hand limply at her side. "I waited until I thought you would be okay without me. You have Kinana – she'll be your best friend for life, I can tell. Now there's Sorano, and Macbeth. Richard, and Sawyer. You'll never lack for friendship."

"But you won't be here," he whispered. Now he could no longer hold back his tears. "Why can't you stay?"

Lucy bit her lip, her heart breaking at the sight of the child before her. Ghosts shouldn't be able to have their heart broken. It wasn't fair. None of it was. "I-"

Erik shook his head, and furiously wiped his eyes. "I know," he said. "I'm not stupid. If you have to, then you have to. I can't force you… or anyone else… to stay. And if you stay, you'll be bound to me, right? You deserve to move one, you've taken care of me longer than most anyone else."

Silence filled the space between them, heavy in its emptiness.

"Be good to your foster parents," Lucy told him softly. "They love you, too. And they've been there for you even longer than I. And…" She took a deep breath, exhaling through her nose. "I'll come find you again, I swear. We'll be together again. And then, you'll be older than me and scold and nag me to do my homework, eat my vegetables, and go to bed on time."

He held out his hand, the smallest finger extended in a crook for her to take. "Pinky-swear!" he demanded. "Promise me!"

Wrapping her own digit around his, Lucy nodded. "I pinky-promise you – I'll see you again, someday."

Erik rushed forward, his arms encircling her middle. "I love you, Mom!" he wailed. "I don't want you to go!"

Lucy knelt down, and her own arms returned the nine-year-old's embrace. "I love you, too!" she sobbed.

Love poured through the simple gesture, Lucy's form the warmest thing Cobra had ever experienced. It wasn't fair. Ghosts weren't supposed to be as warm as Lucy.

Soft lips pressed against his forehead. "Goodbye Erik. For now."

"Goodbye, Mom," he whispered.

Then his arms were empty, and cold.

And so he screamed, Kinana running in from another room to hold him while he cried.


	2. Chapter 2

Death comes to everyone, or so she had always been told.

It didn't make the experience any kinder.

It was a rather cold morning, and if not for the backhoe they would have had a lot of problems digging the grave. Even with the backhoe, it almost wasn't finished in time for the funeral. It was a small affair, only a few of her father's business associates in attendance. One in particular Jean-Luc, stood at her side, a comforting hand on her shoulder. It was he who had made most of the arrangements, being the executor of her father's will. He was a preeminent archaeologist, distinguished in his field, and Lucy had never quite been able to work out how and when he'd come to know her father.

When the service was concluded, and majority of the mourners had retreated inside to partake in the selection of food, Lucy lingered around the grave. Jean-Luc waited for her, but left her immediate side in order to give her some privacy.

Lucy felt strange, looking at the coffin. It was expensive, and she could only wonder what was the point of such splendor for a corpse. It wasn't as if Jude Heartfilia was around to appreciate it anymore. No matter how long she looked at it, she couldn't dredge forth any emotion from the sea of numbness that had overtaken her when she'd first received the news of his passing.

He'd been sick, she'd been informed. For a long time. Lucy hadn't had any idea. Her father had never been an extremely doting parent, even when her mother was still alive, and after Layla's death he'd been furiously cold to his only child. After an incident with an arranged marriage contract when she was seventeen to a particularly odious individual, Lucy had filed for legal emancipation, and upon it being granted, had moved out of her family estate and in with a friend's family. They'd been estranged ever since.

Her eyes drifted from Jude's new wooden abode, to the headstone he would now share with her mother. They were together again, now. Never to be separated. Maybe there was a happy ending in that.

People were supposed to... to say things at this point, right? Get things off their chests, express their regrets, and love for the deceased. But then she'd already done that, a bit. At the service. Jude a few words about missing their chance to reconcile. Alone at the grave, though? It just felt... awkward. And cold.

Lucy shivered, shook her head, and turned away from it, allowing Jean-Luc to escort her inside for the reading of the will.

She still hadn't cried for her father. Not once.

* * *

The place was nice, she decided, looking around the empty rooms. It wasn't a large place by any measure, but it was a cut and then some above where Lucy had been living up till then. Came with a washer and dryer, refrigerator, and a microwave. Plus there was an old clawed bathtub that was pretty cool looking, she had to admit.

Didn't hurt that the place was fully paid for, for the next seven years. Courtesy of her father.

Lucy couldn't help wondering just what he had been thinking, in choosing to spend what little money he could spare in paying this rental forward for so long, for a daughter he had basically no contact with.

He wasn't completely wrong about her need, though. Putting herself through her graduate studies was already a pretty big drain on her meager finances. It would be nice to not have to pay rent or storage fees for her things. It was also close enough to a bus stop that would take her right to her college. Plus, it was completely devoid of bedbugs.

A major score, all told. Much more than she'd been expecting, knowing that Jude had fallen on hard times in his latter years. Lucy hadn't really expected much of anything at all.

Lucy nearly jumped out of her skin when her new landlady finally spoke to her. "If everything is to your liking, you can begin moving in your things straight away."

Turning to face the older woman, Lucy nodded and mustered up a tired smile. "Thank you, I think I'm going to like it here."

The woman returned her smile easily. "I'm happy to hear it. If you need anything at all, my phone number is on the fridge, along with the general rules. I live in the next house over, actually, so you're welcome to stop by, as well. Though I can't guarantee that I'll be there in the evenings, since my job runs pretty late at night."

"That's fine with me. I'm a graduate student, so I keep some strange hours myself."

As the woman turned to leave, Lucy suddenly reached out and touched her arm, stopping her in her tracks. Her landlady looked at her curiously, and with patience. Lucy's mouth opened and closed a couple of times, her words floundering in her mouth. Finally, she flashed a tight smile at the older woman, and asked, "I'm sorry... I didn't quite catch your name the first time. Can you tell it to me, again?"

"It's Kinana," she replied softly.

* * *

It didn't take long, after Lucy had moved in, to figure out just how it was her struggling father had managed to afford seven years worth of rent on this house.

It was haunted.

Lucy groaned in exasperation as she heard the fridge door open... for the third time that evening. "Erik! No matter how many times you check it, it's still going to be empty!"

"You should do something about that, then." The cause of her frustration strolled into the living room, flopping down on the couch beside Lucy. "Seriously, I'm starving."

"You're dead," Lucy countered, her gaze returning to her books. "I've never heard of a ghost eating before. Pretty sure a hungry ghost is a bad sign, are sure you aren't turning into some type of demon?" He was certainly corporeal enough to qualify in her books.

"I do what I want," the twenty-something stated. "Who cares about rules when they don't even have a body?"

It had been an unpleasant surprise to find that she had a housemate, the day after moving in. She'd thought, understandably, that he was an intruder, and had hurled a book at him. Only for the book to go straight  _through_  him, and have him grouch at her about rude greetings, and in his own home, no less.

If there was one thing Lucy never wanted to do again, it was argue about property rights with a  _ghost._

"No body means no stomach, which leads me to wonder why you're eating all my food. And where it's all going, for that matter."

He lifted his arms in a benevolent, grand gesture that Lucy had seen mostly in religious paintings, but never in real life (though she wondered if Erik Ophidias even counted as "real life" when he was dead). "Mysteries of the universe," he intoned, struggling to hold back a smirk.

"The real mystery is when will you pay rent and food costs."

"I've told you before, it's my own damn house. My sister just... sublets it for me on my behalf." He crossed his arms. "And if you know of someone who will hire a ghost, by all means send me their way. If I weren't already dead, I'd be dying of boredom."

Giving up, Lucy rolled her eyes, and flipped to the next page of her research text. "If I get hungry, I'll order a pizza for us. Will that satisfy you?"

"You need to eat healthier than that sometimes, Lucy."

Lucy paused, looking up and meeting his gaze. "Is a dead person seriously telling me to eat my vegetables?"

A grin broke out over his face, and Lucy had the sinking feeling that she'd been conned, somehow.

"Pizza has vegetables," she defended weakly. "Now shut up, I'm trying to study."

She was halfway through the next page, when he suddenly said, "Seriously, though. You should take care of your health." Then, before Lucy could process the odd sentiment she could hear in his voice, he added, "You're the only entertainment I've had in forever."

Slamming her book closed, Lucy gave up for the night. "I've changed my mind. I'm going to bed." Erik had just ruined whatever moment had been brewing, and given his persistent nature, she was better off waking up early and working on her thesis then. For some reason, the ghost never bothered her first thing.

* * *

Everything Lucy had ever read or heard about hauntings was complete and utter bungus, she decided not even a full day into her new living (or unliving) situation.

First of all, Erik was mostly solid. And although he abstained from touching her unless he absolutely felt it necessary, he was warm to the touch on the few occasions in which it had occurred (like the time he pulled her arm away from a forgotten, hot stove burner).

But perhaps the most bogus thing about hauntings that Lucy had heard was that it was done by deceased family members. If anyone should have been haunting her, it by all rights should have been her father. Not Erik, who as far as she could tell had nothing to do with her, ever.

"Actually," she asked him one day, about a month into whatever this was, "why do you haunt this place? Did you die here or something?"

Erik flipped idly through a newspaper, a scowl on his face as he settled on an article about medical malpractice at the nearby hospital. "No, it was a ways away from here. Car accident. Stepped out into the road, and went splat. Drunk driving deserves its own special place in hell, I'm here to tell you."

Lucy grimaced at the unwanted mental image that provided her. "I can relate, actually. A drunk driver almost killed me when I was a kid."

"It's an epidemic these days. As for why I remain here... well, this was my home in life, it might as well be my home in death, too." He turned the page, his eyes not meeting hers once during the conversation, and Lucy took that as an indication that he didn't particularly enjoy the topic, and so she dropped it.

* * *

Prying information about Erik out of Kinana was almost as difficult as getting the man himself to do it. I.e.: not difficult at all, but overwhelmingly awkward. Lucy didn't like to push the kind woman, even if she  _was_  leasing out a haunted house.

The first information she gleaned from her landlady about her brother was accidental. Lucy had been invited over for tea, and had asked about the absolutely massive snake Kinana kept in an equally expansive habitat set up in the main living area.

"She belonged to my brother," Kinana had informed her with a fond smile directed at the snake. "He put all of his heart and soul into keeping her happy, and I couldn't..." Her voice faltered at that, and her eyes, though still directed towards the python, were seeing something much further away. "Well, now I'm taking care of his house and other things, so why not keep the snake, too?"

In later meetings, Lucy had found that Erik had been studying veterinarian medicine, specifically for reptiles and amphibians. Kinana explained that through taking care of his snake, Erik had despaired of finding local care for her, and so had resolved to provide it himself.

It sounded like him.

Erik never joined these little get-togethers, oddly enough. Or maybe not so much, when Lucy stopped to think about it. It was probably painful to have a loved one so close, but have them unable to interact with you.

She couldn't help but wonder why the ghost appeared to  _her,_  instead. It wasn't as if she was predisposed to this sort of thing. She'd never seen another ghost, after all.

So why now?

* * *

"Can't cross over, or whatever it is," Erik informed her bluntly when she asked one day, in a fit of annoyance with him. "I've already tried, like... everything I could think of. But I'm still here, so you can see how well that went for me."

"There's nothing... you know, tying you down?" His response had taken the fight out of her. Erik was a pest at times, but maybe she'd gone over the line a bit. If he was suffering, she'd like to help him. "Anything I can do?"

He grinned at her, a twinkle of mischief in his purple eyes. "Eager to get rid of me? But nah, no clue what the problem is. I've already said my goodbyes to the people that matter, and whatnot. Made my peace."

"I could always hire an exorcist," she suggested helpfully, and he laughed at her.

"No thanks! I've been like this for about a decade now, you know. Gotten used to it."

Lucy wondered if she'd ever get used to  _him._

* * *

Just like that, before she knew it, a year had passed by.

The realization startled Lucy, like cold water had been thrown in her face.

So, a week late in doing so, Lucy pulled on her winter coat and boots, and caught the bus to the cemetery. It was a long ride, giving her time to think. She didn't feel particularly guilty, not bringing flowers or in being late. She had visited earlier in the year, on the anniversary of her mother's death, and had observed the proper rituals then, but she didn't especially feel the need to for this visit.

Honestly, Lucy had barely ever thought about her father the entire year.

That probably made her a bad daughter, she knew.

She covered her mouth with her hand as a yawn overtook her, exhaustion from her studies and thesis preparations catching up to her now that she was unguarded.

"Maybe you should sleep more, pipsqueak."

Lucy froze at the familiar voice behind her.

"What are you doing out of the house, Erik?!" she hissed low under her breath, glancing furtively around to see if the other passengers noticed her talking to herself.

"Stop being weird," Erik told her, standing up and moving into the seat next to her. "Nobody on the bus cares what the other passengers do so long as they aren't being obnoxious."

"What are you doing here?!" Lucy repeated, heat rising in her cheeks.

"Funny thing," he explained. "I was out for my morning walk, when lo and behold I see  _you_  heading for the bus stop on a day you have off, and looking upset. So spill it. What's up with you."

Lucy peered at him from the side, processing his statement. There was so much to unpack there. Ghosts took morning walks? "Were you...  _worried_  about me?"

"No!" he denied. "You take that back!"

His response brought a smile to Lucy's lips. "I'm going to visit my parents grave."

Understanding dawned on Erik's face. "I see. One year anniversary is big. How are you feeling, honestly? Cause you don't look so hot."

"Weird," Lucy admitted with a shrug. "I hadn't seen him in so long, that it doesn't really feel any different with him being gone permanently." She have him a slight nudge with her elbow. "Besides, didn't you hear? His final gift to me was a prepaid haunted house. I've been a bit preoccupied with that."

"And don't forget your thesis!"

"Of course. The thesis. The stupid... goddamn thesis. Astrophysics is a bitch; I don't recommend it. Goddamn magnetism messes everything up."

"I'll take your word on that one."

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, Erik and Lucy both content to watch the scenery go by. Erik followed when Lucy switched buses twice, intent on following this through. The company wasn't unpleasant so long as Erik kept his mouth shut.

When they arrived at the cemetery, Lucy found frozen flowers already on her parents' grave. Jean-Luc, in all likelihood, and placed there on the actual anniversary of her father's passing.

Erik wandered the nearby plots, all of which belonged to relatives of her mother's. Lucy had never met any of them. To her, they were just names carved into stone. The ghost seemed interested, however, so she left him to it as she knelt down in the frozen grass.

Even a year later, it still felt incredibly strange to talk to a gravestone. In her prior visit, Lucy had just dropped the flowers, sat a couple of minutes in silence, and then left again. In her youth, she'd had no problem talking to the dead, she recalled. Writing letters had been her preferred method of communication back then, though. And she had lacked the self-consciousness she now possessed as an adult.

Lucy waited what she felt was an appropriate amount of time, and then stood to leave, brushing off bits of frozen grass that clung to her. She looked around for her companion, and found him only a couple of gravestones away, staring hard at one in particular.

Walking up to him, Lucy looked down at the inscription, and was surprised to see her own name there. "Lucy Ashley," she read aloud, startling Erik. "I think she was my aunt, my mother's sister." She paused, her face scrunching up in thought. "Or maybe she was a cousin that was like a sister? At any rate... she died long before I was born."

"How did she die?" Erik asked, his voice softer than Lucy had ever heard it before, and a strange look on his face that she couldn't read.

"Motorcycle accident. I think she used to be part of a gang." Lucy could remember her mother showing her the obituary, once. The picture that had stared back had looked so eerily like her mother that it had set her younger self to crying.

Lucy frowned hard, another memory swimming to the forefront of her mind.

"What's wrong?" Erik asked after a moment.

"Nothing."

When he raised an eyebrow at her, Lucy sighed heavily. "I just remembered something I didn't really want to." Although Erik didn't pry further, Lucy felt compelled to explain. Maybe it was how quiet the cemetery was. Maybe it was due to the light snow that had begun to fall. Maybe it was belated grief, locked up inside of her for too long and begging for release.

Regardless of the reason, Lucy said, "I was named after this woman. I look... an incredible amount like my mother." The corner of her mouth twitched. "I'm talking carbon copy levels of similar. And mom and," she gestured vaguely at the headstone,"  _this_  Lucy also looked incredibly alike. So whenever..." A choked sob burst from Lucy's throat, her feelings bubbling up like a geyser, hot and ready to blow. "Whenever my mother looked at me, it was like she wasn't even seeing  _me._  It was like she was looking at  _her._  And after my mother died... It was like all my father could see in me was my mother. And it only made him angry."

The tears flowed down her cheeks, finally freed from Lucy. Though they were warm, they only left her feeling colder.

She understood now, the meaning behind Erik's expression.

As if he'd seen a ghost.

"I'm... I'm so  _tired..._  of being other people's ghost."

Her confession met with silence, the real entity at her side unsure what to do with the information she had given him, and the revelations that were whirling through him.

Finally, he slung an arm around her shoulders, and gently steered her way from the silent graces.

"I have a story to tell you," he said. "About a ghost... And a young boy."

* * *

It had been three weeks, since she'd last seen Erik.

After the revelations at the cemetery, he told her all about the ghost that had looked after him when he was younger.

"I never saw you as a ghost," he'd reassured her when he was through. "As one myself... well, I can just sort of tell these things. You're your own person, I guarantee it."

Lucy had broken down in tears again, after he told her that.

Now she wondered if she'd frightened him off. He'd said he needed to do something, that he'd be gone for a while, but it had been far too long with no sign of him.

Out of boredom, and loneliness, and maybe a little bit of curiosity, she'd googled Lucy Ashley's name. An article about her death had pulled up, with the headline of, "Local Motorcycle Delinquent Saves Kid's Life At Cost Of Her Own." The photograph accompanying it held a very familiar face. And she didn't mean her own.

That explained why Lucy Ashley had taken such an interest in making sure Erik was okay.

A week later, Lucy googled Erik's name, and found answers she'd been avoiding looking for the entire past year.

"Local Man Saves Girl From Drunk Driver."

And there was her own picture, looking back at her.

Erik was, to her shock, only nine years older than her. He'd be in his thirties, now, though his ghost hadn't aged past his death.

All these years later, and Lucy hadn't recognized him as the one to save her life that day. Or maybe she had, to some degree. There had always been a sense of safety with Erik, and now she could pinpoint the origin.

It gave light to the common thread between Lucy Ashley and Erik, and between Erik and Lucy. The only ones who could see them, were the people they'd given their all to protect. They lingered, because they still needed protecting.

Unlike with Lucy Ashley, Erik had gotten lost, assuming his duty to the protected complete with his demise. He hasn't seen or known about Lucy's unhappy life at home.

There was a third mystery solved in this. Why her father had gone to such lengths with the rent of this specific building, why it had been coincidentally occupied by the one ghost meant for Lucy to see. It hasn't been a coincidence at all. Whatever source Jude had utilized to keep track of where his daughter attended college, must have found where Erik, the man that had saved his daughter years before, had lived. Erik was beyond help, but the man's sister was still there. It was gratitude for the dead, and a gift to the living.

She cried again, when she figured that one out, missing her father more intensely in that moment than she ever had while he'd lived.

Closing out of the article, Lucy couldn't bear to read any further into it. It was just too painful.

But Erik remained missing.

Lucy thought back to Erik's last words to her, that he'd never seen her as a ghost. She'd needed those words. They would protect her heart for the rest of her life.

Was his duty now complete? Had he disappeared for good?

Her chest tightened at the thought, her breath strangled by terror. She wasn't ready for him to go yet!

Erik hadn't been ready for Lucy Ashley to go, though, either.

That was when a knock came at her door.

Not expecting company, Lucy thought to ignore it. But the knocking increased in urgency, and feeling that she would get no peace otherwise, she stood and opened the wooden barricade to tell the annoyance to...

The words died in her throat before she could get even a single one out.

Across from her, sat a man in a wheelchair. He was a little bit older than the one she knew. His hair was shaggier, he was thinner, and he sported a thick scar over his right eye, and a myriad of other small scars on his right cheek.

"So," he stated lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck, "traumatic head injuries are traumatic, often leading to confusion and sometimes even false memories, to fill in gaps." His lips quirked upward slightly as he fought to hold back a smirk. "Even disembodied spirits might be affected by something like that. Also, apparently hospitals won't discharge a coma patient the same day they wake up, who knew?"

He dropped his hand to his side. "I guess I'm trying to say... sorry for making you wait so long, Lucy."

Lucy hurled herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on for dear life. "Stupid!" she yelled, the force of the proclamation muffled by his hair and neck, and the sobs that began to wrack her body. "Stupid!"

"Hey, hey, hey... you cant be flinging yourself at an invalid; I'm still very brittle, I'll have you know." Despite his complaint, he patted her on the back, and there was a smile in his voice.

With some effort, Lucy peeled herself away. "Do you want to come inside? Maybe have pizza and beer?" She laughed as she asked, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand, and her heart fuller and lighter than it had been in weeks.

"Yes, to the pizza and the talk," he agreed, wheeling himself into their house as she stepped to the side for him. "But I'll take a rain-check on the beer. I'm still on a  _number_  of medications, and they don't play nice with alcohol."

* * *

It was a couple of years after, that saw a man and a woman together in the hospital. The woman's blonde hair was plastered to her skin with sweat, and the man sported a ferocious facial scar. Both were smiling at the bundle in the woman's arms.

"I'm going to teach you the joys of math," the man promised the baby idly, causing the woman to laugh.

"For a name... I'm thinking... Ashley," the woman said, turning slightly and smiling at the man.

"Isn't that a little much?" he countered. "Too on the nose, or what have you?"

"It's fine," she reassured him.

"There are no ghosts in this family."


End file.
